


Unfortunate Happenings

by Bubbly88Tay



Category: Chicago Med, Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Blood, Except no comfort yet, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped, Torture, Whump, shot, stabbed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 18:02:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13529649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bubbly88Tay/pseuds/Bubbly88Tay
Summary: Hank and Jay are taken.They make it out.Barely.While one suffers from the physical load of their captivity, the other has to deal with some of the more emotional wounds.





	Unfortunate Happenings

Voight gripped the pale slack hand tightly in his own, blood red right hand, knowing that Jay couldn't tell he was there, he was so far gone at this point. No, Hank clutched Jay's hand for himself. With the other, he squeezed the bag, shoving another lungful of air into Jay's chest.

 

The back of the ambulance was loud. The machine hooked to Jay's chest was screaming out into the box, echoing off the four walls of the truck and pounding into Voight’s ears. The medic was leaning over Jay, but Voight wasn't paying her any attention, he wouldn't understand even if he was. 

 

Instead he kept running his eyes up and down Jay's body. He only had one boot on, the other must have been pulled off in the chaos, it could be anywhere between here and there and for some reason, that  _ really  _ bothered him. 

 

His left pant leg had been ripped open all the way up. It had made it easier for the medics to throw gauze pads on the stab wound that rested right in the muscle of his thigh. Voight could still hear the tight yell that had escaped his lips when the knife had slowly and agonizingly tore through his muscles just to be ripped out again. 

 

Blood looked to have soaked through the pant legs, and Voight couldn't tell what injury it was from, as he continued to bring his eyes upwards. 

 

His shirt had been ripped open as well. There was a strip of gauze running across his abdomen, already soaking through with blood. The medic had added bandages to the knife wound that had ripped across his torso. A couple of times.

 

It had bled a lot before the team had come to their rescue. Jay had screamed while the incision had been made. He had been so tired and weary by that point. Voight had begged them to kill himself, to leave Jay out of it at that point but they didn't listen to him. 

 

Voights eyes lingered for a moment on the padding that covered the gunshot wound that sat dangerously close to Jay's heart. The medic had reassured him that the bullet had missed the heart but still ran the risk of puncturing something important as the bullet was still in him somewhere. 

 

Jay hadn’t been conscious when they shot him. His head had rested against his chest, as it rose and fell raggedly with each breath he took. He had been in so much pain but refused to give in to their captors demands. When they yanked his head off his chest by his hair, he had only stirred. They had placed the muzzle of the gun against Jay's chest and had looked over at Hank, smiling. 

 

When the gun had gone off, Hank had looked straight at Jay and had been terrified that he had just watched his detective be murdered right in front of him. They had threw his head back on his chest and aimed the gun at Hank, and Hank couldn't move. His lungs gripped tightly in his chest, and his own heart had stopped. 

 

A gun had gone off, but Hank didn't feel any pain, and he watched in satisfaction as the man's blood had spewed out of his mouth. Dropping to his knees. He raised the gun again, aiming at Hank, but another shot echoed and Alvin entered the room, his gun held out in front of him. The man fell limply to the ground and Hank had never been more pleased to see someone dead. 

 

Hank brought his eyes further up and looked at Jay's face, his eyes were still closed - they had never reopened. His skin was almost translucent. Any of the blood dedicated to giving Jay any sort of color had been drained and instead Voight could almost mistake Jay for a corpse. His lips were blue, parted enough for the tube that had snaked it's way down his lips and throat and did most of the body's heavy work for him. The left side of his head was coated in a dried layer of blood, having occurred when they'd been taken. He'd taken a few hits from the butt of a gun to his temple and it had knocked him out cold. 

 

Voight could still feel the crusty blood on his own brow, he hadn't made it much longer than Jay. 

 

Voight clenched his fist again, sending more air shooting into Jay's lungs, as he thought back to how unscathed he had made it out of the whole ordeal compared to Jay. In his time on the force and throughout his entire life, he had seen a lot of things and more times than not, it was never fair. 

 

But it always seemed menial when it had happened to others. Now that he was staring it right in the face, it sent his blood running cold through his veins, and his stomach sat in his throat.

 

Nothing about it had made sense. It was senseless and Jay just happened to be unfortunate enough to be the recipient. If Voight was honest, he wasn’t really surprised, unfortunate happenings could have been and should have been Jays middle name. 

 

Voight glanced at the medic as she placed another bandage on Jays abdomen before watching his vitals for a few moments and then looking up at Voight, a serious expression on her face.

 

“You don’t have to tell me how bad it is, I think I get the idea.” Voight muttered, any attempts to make light of the situation sat heavy on his tongue. 

 

The truck came to an abrupt halt, and Voight clenched down on the bag shoving a premature breath into Jays lungs as his hand flung from Jays and grabbed the side of the truck, steadying himself. 

 

The medic was at Jay’s feet in seconds, as the doors flung open, a doctor that Voight had seen in passing on multiple occasions as well as a few nurses on the other side of the doors. 

 

The stretcher was pulled from the ambulance by the group and lowered to the ground carefully. Voight felt the bag grabbed from his hands as he watched the doctors begin to walk off without him. He jogged to catch up, his eyes not on Jay anymore, but rather his surroundings. 

 

He couldn’t see Will, which Voight couldn’t tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing. He could feel eyes on him, whether it be a employee of the emergency department or a patient, they were all staring at the spectacle they had created just by walking into the room. 

 

Voight imagined he was a looker himself. His clothes were days old, and the blood that coated his hands was bright against the crisp background of the emergency department. His hair was overgrown, and for the first time in a long time, he could feel facial hair coating his chin and skin above his lip. 

 

He kept up with the fast paced group up until the had disappeared into a trauma room. Before Voight could follow, a nurse grabbed him by the biceps and stopped his forward motion. She looked at him with a comforting smile. “The doctors are going to do everything they can for your detective, sir, but you need to to give them the space to work.”

 

Voight could feel his chest clench, it was just like being on the other side of the room, tied to his own chair, and not being able to help. All he could do was watch. “I need to help him. I can’t let him down.”

 

“I know sir, you boys have been through a lot, but-”

 

“Not again, I can’t just watch-”

 

The nurse pursed her lips as she looked behind her, her smile slipping. “You can’t go in there, but you can stay, and rest against this back wall while they work on him. I’ll look at your head while we’re at it.”

 

Voight could feel the urge to be at his detectives side subside as the nurse guided him backwards. She hardly noticed him guiding him downwards as he sat down into a wheelchair. He trusted her, and he trusted the people working on Jay. But he didn’t trust the situation not to go wrong.  needed to be there, someone needed to be there. “Will Halstead, where's Will? He needs to know.”

 

The nurse pursed her lips as she stood up straight and looked around her. “He’s been paged, he’ll be down here shortly I imagine.”

 

The answer comforted Hank slightly as he looked around the nurse and into the room. He had heard it referred to as a war room more than once, and never had it made as much sense as now. 

 

There was blood on the floor, as were the remnants of Jays pant leg and shirt. There were guazepads and wrappers and it was so messy but no one seemed to care. They just stepped on it like it wasn’t even there. 

 

A nurse was at the head of Jay's bed, pumping air. Statistics were read out. Blood pressure, heart rate. Shock was throw out there, as was operating room. Blood type, blood loss, so many words that Hank would normally be able to understand in a sentence but all at once and it was just too difficult to follow. 

 

He heard yelling from his left and whipped his head around, the nurse tending to him draping a blanket over Voights shoulders. Will came sliding around the corner, a nurse trailing behind him. He stopped cold in his tracks as he saw Voight being tended to. He looked from Voight, to the nurse tending to him, to the doorway in front of them. WIll shook his head as he ran forwards. Voight could hear Will muttering ‘no’ repeatedly, the words becoming clearer and clearer the closer he got. The nurse in front of him tried to stop him but he pushed through and was met with another nurse.  _ ‘I guess they were prepared.’ _

 

Will fought with the nurse for a few moments before he stiffened. He raised his hands to his head, gripping his hair as he hunched against his knees. Voight couldn’t hear him, he was eerily quiet compared to the pandemonium, but he was shaking. The nurses allowed him to sit like this for a few moments before he stood again and dropped his hands. “Please, he’s my brother.”

 

The nurses nodded their heads, as Voights spoke up. “We know Will, but you can’t be in there and you know that. Why don’t you help me with Voight?” 

 

Will looked up from Jay and turned to Hank. He nodded his head and wiped at his eyes, as they glistened under the fluorescent lights. He took a few steps towards Hank and kneeled in front of him.

 

“What happened?” Will’s face was twisted in sorrow, like he didn’t have the energy to worry about what his face looked like. 

 

Hank shook his head, “We were taken, and they got him good.”

 

Wills face blanched. “Taken? When?”

 

“I don’t-”

 

Sirens erupted from behind him and Will spun again, turning to face the chaos. It took them a moment but the entire room seemed to move at once towards the door, pushing the bed out the doorway and towards the elevators. 

 

Voight could feel his heart hammering in his chest, almost like someone was sitting on top of him doing compressions, like they were Jay. Shoving their fists hard into Jay chest, trying to correct his heart rate. Will was frozen, still staring into the room that had just as quickly been abandoned as it had been filled. 

 

Hank heard the elevator doors slide shut and looked up too late. 

 

Too late for one last glimpse at his detective and he was rushed deeper into the hospital. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Monthly Whump Prompt challenge that I help out with over on Tumblr.


End file.
